To Have Is To Hold
by rune101
Summary: Bruce/Jonathan. For years, Jonathan has been home-schooled and now he is tackling his biggest obstacle yet; high school. Where the girls are meaner, everyone has two sides to them, and romantic rivalries dominate. Nothing will ever be the same. Slash.
1. A Simple Move

A/N:: Hey guys, long time no-see. I really wanted to write this since this idea hit me this morning and I've just found the time, so I have - and of course, as always, shared it with you lovely people. Anyways, enjoy my first AU contribution to the Bruce/Jonathan Batman fandom.

Disclaimer~ I neither own, nor claim to own the characters and settings depicted herein. It all belongs to the respective copyright holder(s). If I did own it, you would all be confused because it would have gone from a (one-sided) Rachel/Bruce to a Bruce/Joker, to a Bruce/Harvey, to a Bruce/Jonathan. What can I say, Bruce is universally fit for villains?

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><p>Jonathan Crane fiddled with the cuffs to his new school uniform. His father had just recieved a promotion and they could finally move closer to Jonathan's mother's place of work. She was a model, now playing in three-star movies, slowly climbing the ladder to the top. Gotham city was just another stop on her way to her dream.<p>

Jonathan didn't have to have an abnormally large IQ to tell that his parents were ill-matched. Both were too busy living their own lives to even remember to acknowledge the other. It was typical. Something that happened to a lot of rich kids. His parents just never had time. All the money in the world couldn't buy a single moment of it. Maybe if Jonathan were less introverted he'd have told his mom that her millions - that her pictures in the newspaper and her recognition by tabloids didn't really amount to anything, his life would be slightly different. Maybe better. Maybe not.

But the family's youngest Crane was content to read books and study late into the night. He couldn't understand why his father was more than happy to rack in his millions. Money wasn't like a clever life-changing finding. But people always interested Jonathan. People weren't a math equation that, no matter which way it was solved, had a concrete answer. People were anomalies. The fact that people could experience joy, hatred, sadness, fear...it was all just so - so human, emotions that could be a help and a hinder, they were just so powerful. So amazing. Much more interesting than a black and white photo on the cover of a newspaper, or leather chairs full of business-minded individuals.

"Are you ready for your first day of school, Jonathan? I know it must be stressful for you." Even as Jonathan's mother's words sounded completely sincere, she wasn't even facing him. She had her back turned, applying gloss over her wine red lipstick. She was ever the actress, even able to pretend off-set. She smoothed down her skirt and turned to face her son, a gentle smile on her face.

"I'll be fine Mom." Jonathan was looking at his shoes, continuously fiddling with his cuffs.

"Okay. Well I have work outside of town today. Hopefully I'll be back later tonight. If not, I'll see you Tuesday." Mrs. Crane made a grab for her coat before turning around and hugging her son. "I love you," she said, gently ruffling his hair before leaving.

Jonathan mumbled back an 'I love you too,' eyes moving from his shoes. He listened as his mom's heels clicked on the granite flooring before her ringtone blared. Expectantly enough, it was the audio trailer to the half completed movie she had been starring in that took the place of an annoying buzz or popular song.

There was a quiet moment. "Oh fuck!" What do you mean-? Since when? Ohh..." Mrs. Crane returned exasperatedly, her heels stomping on the floor.

"What's wrong?" Jonathan asked, confused by her current display.

"Apparently the filming isn't taking place outside of the city. I was supposed to take a flight there. And I've just gotten word that I missed my flight. This is all just a big mess." That was showbiz. People stabbed each other in the back while smiling in their faces.

She paced a little before turning back around, "Let me take you to school."

Jonathan nodded, walking out of the door to the car that was driven by someone that he couldn't recognize. His mom followed, flipping her long brown hair to her opposite shoulder.

"I can't believe that my baby boy is a senior this year," Jonathan's mom said, face pulling down in mock sadness.

"I can't believe it either," Jonathan said honestly. High school had just kind of just rolled by. It could have been because he was home-schooled, which in no way helped his socialization skills, but it would probably feel weird to be in a school full of students, even if the school was private.

Jonathan opened the door and waved goodbye to his mother, who returned the gesture, before slinging his shoulderbag on.

Here it was. Gotham Private High School. Jonathan pushed the door but it didn't relent. He pushed again before embarassedly noticing the PULL sticker on the door. He pulled the door and it easily opened. A girl, a brunette with light blue eyes chuckled lightly at him. She then gave him a small smile before walking through the door that Jonathan held open.

Jonathan shook his head quickly before walking in.

"Bruce, man go long!" A voice yelled.

"Dude I got this," an awfully close voice yelled. Jonathan cursed his luck as the football flew over his head and he was practically tackled to the ground.

A dark haired and dark-eyed guy in a blue and white sweater put out a hand, offering to help Jonathan up. Jonathan inspected the offered hand warily before taking it. "Thanks," he mumbled, staring at the small black dotted pattern on the white floor tiles.

"My name's Bruce." Bruce stepped even further into Jonathan's personal space and looked him in the eye. "I haven't seen you around before," he glanced at the uniform, "I'm guessing you're new. Are you a sophomore? A junior?"

"I'm a senior." Jonathan didn't feel nervous around this Bruce guy at all. His presence was actually somewhat relaxing. That wasn't something that happened often.

"Ohhh," Bruce gave a half-smile, "sorry."

"It's okay," Jonathan returned with a smile.

"What's your name?"

"Jonathan. Jonathan Crane."

"Well Doctor Jonathan Crane, you already know I'm Bruce but my last name is Wayne. Bruce Wayne."

"Doctor?" Jonathan asked, confused.

Bruce held up his hands defensively. "I know I shouldn't assume anything, but you look like a future doctor - I don't know why though." Bruce shrugged.

"Doctor," Jonathan repeated. He kind of liked that title.

"Bruce! There you are. Gordon just got sent to the principle's office for throwing that football, and class starts in five minutes. I don't know what will happen if you're late again." It was that same brunette that had laughed at him, Jonathan thought. He already was starting to dislike her.

Bruce turned around to address her. "Rachel, honestly, you worry too much." He turned back to Jonathan just as the warning bell signalling class was starting soon had rung. "Hey, I'll see you around. You should hang out with me after school today." Bruce flashed an award-winning smile that, for no reason that Jonathan could come up with, made his heart pick up speed and his face grow warm.

"Okay," he said a little breathlessly, mentally berating himself for sounding so stupid.

Bruce smiled again and Jonathan took a step forward with his right foot, missing the path to the floor entirely and stepping onto his left foot. Before he could catch himself he was losing his balance and on a direct crash course with the flooring. He made a half gasp, half yell before hitting the ground. Only he didn't feel the impact. Mere seconds later, an eternity it felt like, Jonathan opened his eyes, body suspended from the ground by a pair of strong arms.

"Whoa, you okay there Jonathan? Need to go to the nurse?"

Jonathan weakly nodded, not knowing of a more appropriate response. The few minutes he had had of socialization with peers his own age were awe-inspiring. He could write a thesis to the novel he'd been working on about personality from this experience alone. The complexity was amazing. "I-I'm okay," Jonathan stuttered. Only he wasn't okay. For no reason he could come up with, his heart resumed its erratic beat.

"Okay." Bruce put an arm around Jonathan, gently pushing him forward. He turned turned back towards the brunette, "See 'ya later Rache." She seemed to sneer a little at the nickname before sighing exasperatedly and turning away.

How intriguing. Jonathan looked between the retreating back of the girl named Rachel and Bruce. 'Very interesting indeed,' he thought, not for the first time today.

"Hey, Jonathan? We're here. You sure you're okay?" Jonathan felt a cool hand press to his forehead.

"Uhm, yes. I'm sure. You should - you should get to class. No need to waste your time here." Jonathan was again fiddling with his cuffs.

"Hey listen," when Jonathan was too embarassed to look up, Bruce raised his gaze with his thumb and forefinger, turning his head up. "It's not a waste of my time."

Jonathan felt like he was laid bare before this guy's eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, unable to think of anything else to say.

Someone in the room made an "ahem" sound and Jonathan timidly pulled away, face flushing and hands furiously searching for somewhere to be. He tried at his sides. No. He tried behind his back. Not there either. He settled with lightly clasping them in front of himself.

"Wow Bruce. So you go from a new girlfriend every month to a new..." Her voice trailed off as she looked Jonathan over, "boy toy?" She tried, raising an eyebrow. "And you're pretty fast too, that kid," she gestured towards Jonathan, "looks new."

The blonde girl with her hair held back in a ponytail and sporting a "GPHS"on her cheerleaders uniform was about to say something else before Bruce held up a hand and rolled his eyes. "Why, you jealous Harley?" Bruce smirked in a way that said 'I know you are and anything you say will only prove me right'.

Jonathan noticed that the blonde balled up her fist like it was some great effort not to, and glared. "Fuck you Bruce, I was the one who ended it!"

Bruce merely shrugged,"Exactly. You were the one who ended it. Not me. You. So if you're unhappy you only have yourself to blame." Bruce's tone was calm and level-headed in comparison to Harley's. Jonathan had to pay close attention to see his eye twitch - if he blinked he would've missed it, so he wasn't as calm ad he seemed after all.

The nurse, a redhead with a name tag that proudly sported the capitalized and bolded letters 'IVY', walked in from a back room. She nodded towards Harley in acknowledgement and inclined her head toward her office. Harley followed behind her and only then did Jonathan that the cheerleader was limping, practically hobbling on one foot and avoiding putting her weight on her ankle.

Bruce took Jonathan's hand and guided him further in to the office and in front of the desk of a man who looked up once before addressing them. "Ah, Wayne, what can I help you with today?" His voice held a hint of sarcasm. He looked at Jonathan who had his head down. "Did a fight break out between you two? Do you need to see your principal?"

"No, nothing like that." Bruce said casually. Jonathan turned to look at him. Fights were regular for him? What kind of person was he? "He," Bruce gestured to Jonathan, "needs a class schedule."

Jonathan opened his mouth, prepared to give his name, age, date of birth and so on. "Ah, you must be Jonathan Crane, I'm Mr. Gordon and I work in the front office. If you need anything, please, don't hesitate to ask me or," he motioned to Bruce, "your new friend here."

A squeaky "Okay" was all he could manage. He supposed that because it was a private school that the staff knew more about the students as opposed to the busy hectic chaos of a public one. Jonathan waited for what felt like one awkwardly long moment for Mr. Gordon to realize that they had just gone in a complete circle. Yes, introduction had been made but he still held no shedule in his hands.

Mr. Gordan gave a polite smile before shuffling back to his computer and punching in a few keys. The sound of a near ancient printer whirred through the room and Jonathan glanced over at Bruce. Bruce had his back turned and was waving at someone from across the hall. Jonathan pushed up his glasses and leand forward to get a better view.

The guy that he was waving to was about his height, maybe give an inch or two, and had tan brown hair that was healthily shiny and hung over his face in a skater haircut.

"Hey Jokester," Bruce called, garnering looks from various office members, though no one said anything.

Mr. Gordon tapped Jonathan on the shoulder and he turned around, muttered an apology, for what eactly he didn't know, and exited the office with Bruce.

When they were out of the sight of the watchful staff member's eyes, the boy that Bruce had called out to approached. He smiled at Bruce and pulled him into a hug that lasted for longer than Jonathan would have deemed appropriate for being simply friends.

"Jonathan, this is Jack," the newly identified face seemed to notice Jonathan for the first time, as if he hadn't been standing there all along.

"I'm Jack." His voice sounded less than friendly but Jonathan shook his hand when he put it out. That had been a mistake. Jack, unnoticably to Bruce, dug his thumbnail into Jonathan's palm, drawing blood. When the handshake ended, Jack's face turned into a sneer as he looked at Jonathan, but he happily waved 'bye' to Bruce.

Jonathan held his hand. What on Earth had just happened?

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading, review if you have time, and I'll be back soon with another update.


	2. Not as Easy

A/N: Thank you to my reviewers, I appreciate the time you took to review oh-so much!

Disclaimer~ I neither own, nor claim to own the characters or settings depicted herein; that all belongs to the respective copyright holder(s). If I did own it, Jonathan and Bruce would've kissed at least once in the movie.

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><p>Jonathan stared down at his schedule of eight classes which were confusingly divided up into "A days" and "B days". A line was drawn between four classes, indicating that everyday he would attend four classes instead of all eight. On "A days" his schedule read, 'Psychology, Calculus, Chemistry, and World History', while his "B days" consisted of 'Economics, Sociology, Freshman PE and Advanced English IV'.<p>

Jonathan nearly deadpanned. PE. Not just any old physical education class, but a freshman one at that. It was preposturous. It was not like he wasn't fit, but he was definitely out of shape. He barely envisioned himself capable of running a mile. He never had PE in all of his home-schooling years, that was for sure. He couldn't even imagine any of his tutors telling him to drop and give them twenty push-ups.

"Hey, lemme' see your schedule," Bruce held out his hand and Jonathan handed it to him. He watched as Bruce's eyes quickly scanned the sheet of paper. "Oh!" He said suddenly. "We have two classes together, English and PE."

"Oh...cool," Jonathan tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice at the fact that his only friend in the school only had two out of eight classes with him. He had wished, even knowing it was highly unlikely, that they would have all their classes together. "Wait, why're you in Freshman PE?"

Bruce scratched the back of his neck and had a guilty face before shrugging. "Skipping. I did a lot of skipping freshman and sophomore year."

Skipping? It took Jonathan a moment to realize he was referring to cutting class. He wasn't used to the term 'skipping' in reference to that. "Oh, I see."

"Actually, I'm a TA in your World History class too."

"Uhm, what's a TA?" Jonathan asked, feeling like a complete idiot because Bruce had said the acronym as if it were common knowledge.

"Oh, Teacher Assistant. I basically just grade papers, make office runs and help out. It's pretty much a free period."

Jonathan nodded but this was all so much to take in. During his home-schooling, his teacher came at a time suitable for him, not the other way around. Nothing was ever really complicated. It was simple. Simplicity fit him.

"Today's an A-day, so your first class'll be Psych. I'll walk you." Bruce handed Jonathan back his schedule and proceeded to walk up the flight of stair around the corner. Jonathan followed, wishing he had the nerve to say there was need to help him out this much, but he couldn't work up that kind of courage, so he continued following him until he stopped in front of a closed door. "Here it is, I gotta' get to Economics, but afterwards wait for me here. I'll meet up with you."

Jonathan nodded and Bruce quickly walked down the stairs. Jonathan took a deep breath, putting his hand out to turn the handle to the door when the door opened. Jonathan presumed from the imposing stance if the woman before him that she was the teacher.

Jonathan entered and all except a few eyes turned towards him. "Take a seat anywhere you like. What's your name?"

"Jonathan," he stated, feeling unbelievably awkward. There were only three seats. One near the teacher's desk, but that was at an awkward angle, one near the girl that Bruce had called Rachel, and one that was empty between four girls who were talking about something that had to do with the school's basketball team last week. Jonathan chose the one near Rachel.

When he sat down, Rachel looked up from the lobg novel she was reading and addressed him. "Hey, you're that new kid, right?"

"Yes," Jonathan replied, not really liking the reference between himself and a 'kid'.

"My name's Rachel."

I know that was what he wanted to say, instead he said, "I'm Jonathan," and turned around as the teacher finished attendence and started up the projector before pulling down the white screen.

"We'll start by reviewing what was learned last class. Can anyone tell me a possible reason as to why we have nightmares?" She waited a few moments but no one offered an answer. "Anyone at all?" Still no one offered. "I guess either no one in here remembers, or no one was paying attention last class."

Finally Rachel raised her hand and the teacher pointed at her speak. "Supported by the Evolutionary perspective of psychology, nightmares are like genetic warning patterns to future generations. Like running from something in the dark, our ancestors probably had to run from many animals from the dark. So I guess it's an instinctual protection?"

"Spot on. Next time don't be shy to give your answer, even if you think it's wrong," Rachel furrowed her brows, like she was going to deny being shy, but shook her head and though better of it.

For the next hour, all Jonathan did was take notes, mostly vocab, and mildly pay attention to the video they started on the relationship between dreams and the psyche. When the bell rang, Jonathan bolted right out of his chair before the teacher could open her mouth to ask him a question.

Jonathan waited outside the door, looking down at his feet and pressing his back in to the wall as a stampede of students rushed to get to class. Bruce walked quickly to him and pushed a guy out of his way. Jonathan thought that the guy would've gotton mad or something, but he didn't, he just continued leisurely walking down the hall, talking to a tall girl with blonde streaks, who Jonathan assumed must have been his girlfriend.

"Hey," Bruce said, reaching for Jonathan's hand and pulling him in the direction opposite the crowded hall. "Let's go this way." There were backstairs that led out side and Jonathan felt unsure. When he didn't step forward, Bruce said, "It's a shortcut through the courtyard."

"Okay." They walked through the courtyard and the Gotham sky was clear. Jonathan could see a few birds in the sky. The clouds were so thin that they were not visible. Jonathan took a deep breath of the fresh air.

"Do you like it?" Bruce asked, looking at Jonathan.

"Yes." Jonathan stated simply. It was almost indescribably beautiful. And he had never thought that way about any place he'd been to before. "What class are you going to?"

"Weights," Bruce replied with a smug smile as if it were a badge of honor. "What about you?"

"I'm going to Calculus," Joonathan said, remembering his second class on the schedule.

"Wow, I knew you were smart. You're like some sort of genius." Jonathan felt himself flush at that. As good as his grades were, he rarely heard praise from anyone outside of his home-schooling teachers, and it felt good. Like he'd just won a Nobel Prize. "Did you want me to walk you?"

"Thanks for offering, but I remember seeing where it was this morning."

"Okay." Bruce looked Jonathan over for a moment before saying, "sit by me at lunch."

"'Kay." Jonathan's face flushed even darker and he walked through the breezeway to get to the math wing, while Bruce went to the boys locker room.

When Jonathan got to Calculus, there were plenty of empty seats. He thought more students would file in after him but the teacher closed the door, announcing that the class was all there. There were only 15 students, himself included.

Halfway through the lesson, Jonathan could no longer focus. He had already taken all the notes and written down a few of the example problems. It didn't really matter though. He had already learned what was being taught on the board a long while ago. It was all just review for him. To be honest, he had learned past Calculus I, but that was the highest level of math course that was offered.

Jonathan set his mechanical pencil down and waited the twenty-five minutes that were left of Calc until the bell rang.

When the bell did ring, he got up, only for his teacher to tell him to wait. "I noticed you were very distracted, and considering that this is such a high level course, I would advise against that. Many very intelligent students have outright failed my class because of cockiness, I hope your not one of them." Jonathan nodded, only caring about getting to lunch. He didn't care to tell the teacher that he could've probably taught the class and done just fine.

Jonathan walked to outside the locker room and waited. When Bruce came out, he smiled at Jonathan. "Hey, thanks for waiting." He nodded and noticed that a thin sheen of sweat glistened on Bruce's skin.

Bruce wiped at his neck and face with a blue towel before pulling it in his gym bag and pulling Jonathan towards the cafeteria.

When they all sat down, Rachel was on the left of Bruce and Jonathan was on the right. Harvey, a friend of Bruce's, Jonathan presumed, had sat down at the table for a moment, but had gotten up and left saying that he had homework to work on. Jonathan thought he was lying because he swore he saw him headed to the janetor's closet.

Rachel swirled her fork around in her salad before popping a cruton in to her mouth. "Bruce, you're all sweaty and gross." Rachel pushed Bruce away from herself playfully, causing Bruce to lean on Jonathan. "Isn't he all sweaty and gross, Jonathan?"

"Well he did just come from weights," Jonathan said, looking over at her.

"Yeah but," Rachel pulled a rasberry-strawberry scented perfume from her purse and sprayed it on Bruce, "girl don't sweat like that, I just don't see how guys can."

"What the fuck, Rachel?" Bruce wiped at his clothes like that would get rid of the perfume, "Now I smell like a girl. And girls do sweat, they just hide it."

"Well that's what you should do then," Rachel chuckled.

"Yes, Mom," Bruce said sarcastically. Jonathan couldn't help laughing at the two of them. "See Rache, look what you did, now Jonathan probably thinks I'm a loser," Bruce said light-heartedly. I'm on the football team, don't worry, I'm only kind of a loser," Bruce mock-whispered to Jonathan with a laugh.

Jonathan laughed harder. "He sucks at football though," Rachel said jokingly and made a funny face. "He's secretly a ballerina."

"Hey, don't go divulging secrets there," Bruce said, and the three of them laughed.

"But seriously Rache, now I'm gonna' smell like this all through class."

"I kind of like the scent," Jonathan said, a bit unsure of how their reaction were going to be.

"Really?" Bruce asked and Jonathan nodded, his cheeks turning a light pink. "Well you should rub yourself all over me so you can smell just like it." Jonathan's blush grew significantly darker.

"Or," Rachel started, emphasizing the word, "just ask me to spray some on?"

"My way is more fun." Bruce said.

"You would think that, you perv." Rachel grabbed one of Bruce's fries and pitched it at him.

A moment afterwards, practically a swarm of people gravitated toward Bruce and Rachel, and people who were curious of who Jonathan was. Jonathan easily held conversations with all of them, impressed by the ability he never knew he even had. There was a moment when Jonathan was completely in awe of how popular Bruce and Rachel were. It was something akin to what he had only seen in television, those few times that he had allowed himself to watch the nonsensical programs.

As Jonathan looked down at his schedule and headed in the direction of his class, Bruce sighed, heading to Algebra II. When he got there he took his assigned seat and his mind wandered to thought of Jonathan. Sweet, cute, beautiful, nice, kind, sexy, Jonathan.

'What was that?' Bruce thought, quickly sitting up straight as if someone had shoved a ruler behind his back. Sure, Jonathan was nice and kind, and pretty shy, but sexy? That thought had kind of startled Bruce worse than many thoughts that he had ever thought before.

"Bruce? Are you here today?" The substitute teacher called, scanning the room. "No Bruce today?"

"Here," Bruce said a little too fast.

The substitute teacher nodded, "Thank you, but please say 'here' or raise your hand the first time I call your name, I'm not your regular teacher, it's not like I know all your faces - though I do recognize some of you. Okay, let's get started with today's lesson, shall we?" The teacher paused looking around at the bored unregistering faces of most of the class and a few who faked enthusiasm. "First we'll start with notes on this chapter, then we'll do some practice problems and afterwards you guys should have a good fifteen or twenty minutes to at least get a good portion of homework started, if not finished." There were a few collective groans and a few students asked to go to the bathroom.

"Okay, it's actually not as hard as it seems, you see. Were just adding polynomials and-" After that, Bruce tuned out and his head hit the desk as he fell asleep. A few students used the distraction to finish up a text message. He wasn't the only one though. A few other took Bruce's actions as cue to go to sleep as well.

The substitute looked frustrated, but wrote down the names of every student talking excessively, texting, listening to their iPod, or sleep. It was a long list.

As if by instinct, which was probably what it was seeing as Bruce had the bell schedule down perfectly, Bruce woke up exactly a minute before the bell. He shoved all his stuff inside his bag, zipped it and opened the door. Before the substitute could tell him to stay inside the door until the bell rang, the bell rang.

Meanwhile, Jonathan was crying. He felt like such a fool. In Chemistry, he had mixed up the chemicals and blown up the tube. Jack, the guy that Bruce had hugged and called Jokester, had even helped him.

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><p>AN: Thank you for reading, please review, and I'll be back with an update soon.


	3. A Fool's Fool

A/N:: I apologize for the lateness of this update, but here it is. Enjoy~

Disclaimer~ I do not own, nor do I claim to own any recognizable content herein; I do own the story and plot, however. If I did own it, which I do not, there would've been smut in the movie.

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><p>'I feel like such a fool,' the thought repeated over and over in Jonathan's mind. He had followed all of the teacher's instructions, carefully cohesive with the step by step procedures. He had even gone so far as to ask for help - a safeguard against any mistakes he might've made. But he still managed to screw up. The whole situation, the embarrassment of his fellow student's laughter, it shouldn't have been as big as a deal as he was making it. Logically speaking it shouldn't have mattered. But Jonathan had never been in a situation like that and couldn't pull up any means of coping from his vast expanse of knowledge.<p>

Bruce walked down the hall, eyes scanning for Jonathan but he didn't see him. Private school or no private school, there were still a lot of students. He couldn't just instantly spot the brunet - although if he had a "Jonathan-detector," that would certainly come in use.

"Hey man, what you doin'?" Bruce turned to see Harvey, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Nothin. Look, have you seen Jonathan?" Bruce replied, hoping Harvey wouldn't get off topic and pull the conversation toward his own needs. But if he knew the prideful man like he did, then-

"Jonathan? Who's Jonathan? No, wait. That one guy - with the glasses. Nah, I haven't seen him around. Listen," Harvey took a breath, able to get all that out on only one and continued, "you gotta' help me out here. I need Rachel to go with me to the dance next week."

Bruce had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his friend's predictable behavior. "Well what do you want me to do about it. I can't force her to go with you." And here it went again: the game of cat-and-mouse between Harvey and Rachel - even though it seemed only one person was intentionally playing.

Harvey paused for a moment, thinking it over. "Well yeah, I know that, but can't you drop a few hints. Maybe persuade her somehow?"

"Oh yeah," Bruce started sarcastically, "I'll just break out my mind-control device, hit a few buttons and wah-la! She'll say yes, just like that. It's fool-proof."

Harvey was quiet for a moment, his silence only made more blantant by the contrast of the high pitched five minute 'warning bell'. "I was being serious," he said, the normal confidence fleeing his voice.

Bruce bit his tongue against the sarcastic remark that nearly slipped out and sighed. "I'll see what I can do." At the sight of Harvey's overjoyed face he made sure to add, "But no promises."

"No promises," Harvey echoed, nodding his head. "Trying is good enough for me."

"Good," Bruce grinned. "You owe. So make it up by buying me Taco Bell."

"Now?"

"Hell yeah now. I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Harvey chuckled, pulling out his car keys.

Meanwhile Rachel twirled her locks around her finger, gazing in to the classroom Bryce was supposed to be in. Not too much to her surprise, he wasn't there. He was probably skipping again. She sighed, stepping away from the door so students could slide past her and make it in to their seats before the bell signalling class had started rung.

Rachel locked eyes with Jonathan, and feeling as if she had to, gave a forced smile and wave which was returned with an equal amount of sincerity - that is to say barely any at all.

After that she quickly paced herself down the hall, making her way to study hall even though she didn't have any school work that needed doing.

Jonathan watched as she left, his eyes curiously following the path she took. Then it struck him why she had visited. It was obviously not to see him, that much was clear simply by how awkward the passing seemed.

Then the thought hit him that she was there to see someone else and Jonathan remembered Bruce mentioning something about being a teacher's assistant for this period of World History. He wasn't in class, which was odd because he had been earlier.

"Okay class," the teacher, Jonathan assumed by his lax yet authoritive stance, walked to the front of the class. "We have a new student transferring here today," he indicated it was Jonathan by gesturing towards where he was sitting. "Now lets get started."

At first Jonathan had thought that the teacher was just tired, but now he realized that wasn't it. The history teacher spoke in a monotone - meaning he was most likely tone deaf. Jonathan had never experienced what he was experiencing right now before. No one's voice had ever made him tired. Until today, that was.

After hitting Taco Bell, Bruce and Harvey drove back to school, soft taco burritos in hand. Bruce pulled out his phone, checked the time and muttered, "shoot!" Before he took off, practically running to class. He knew he was going to be late - that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was the fact that he was really late. As in a half an hour late, late.

As Bruce came through the classroom, everyone's head turned to focus on him, if only briefly. Any contrast to the dull documentary was welcomed it seemed. Bruce handed the teacher a burrito and sat down at the emptiest corner of the room.

Jonathan looked at Bruce, wondering if the jock had noticed him. As if he could hear his thoughts, Bruce looked up, catching Jonathan's eyes and smiled. He quickly grabbed his things and went to sit by Jonathan.

The teacher seemed to be eyeing the situation warily. He paused the documentary before shutting the expensive looking projector off and addressing Bruce. "C'mon man, you show up late and then you distract my students - what's up with that? Now I'm going to have to stop my whole lesson because of you." The joking in his tone (which, by the way, still didn't change) was obvious and a few people chuckled, Jonathan being among one of them.

Bruce grinned, standing up and getting the stack of papers that the history teacher held out for him to pass out. He handed out the papers and Jonathan noted how a few girls' gazes lingered on him as he handed them their homework sheet.

"And here you go," Bruce said with a grin, handing Jonathan a homework sheet before just putting the extras on to his desk.

"T-thank you," Jonathan said, wondering if it would've been too invasive to ask why he was late. He figured it was considering they had only just met, and decided that he'd ask such questions when they were better aquainted with eaach other. That way he would avoid seeming nosey or rude by sticking his nose in the other's business.

"You okay?" Bruce asked.

Jonathan thought about Chemistry, and almost immediately he wanted to tell Bruce, but he didn't want to vent his menial problems to the dark haired teen. "Yeah. Fine. I'm just fine," he forced a smile.

The word "fine" - that word preluded to lies and hidden feelings almost every time. But not knowing any better, Bruce believed him and smiled back.

"Hey, do you have a ride home? I could give you a lift if you want," Bruce offered. The offer wasn't purely selfless and out of the goodness of his heart. He wanted to spend more time with the brunet - maybe even learn something about him. And then there was that dance that was coming up the following week. 'It would be cool if he came to that,' Bruce thought.

The bell rang before Jonathan could answer and without much thought he nodded his head. "Yeah, sure. I just need to cancel my ride."

Bruce nodded as well, shoving his stuff in to his back pack and slinging his gym bag over his shoulder and they both exited the now empty classroom.

Jonathan took his phone out of its protective case and dialed his home phone number. Within moments a woman picked up and Jonathan recognized her as his Mom's secretary. "Anything I can help you with, sir Crane?"

"Yes," Jonathan stated simply, "could you cancel whatever means of transportation that has been set up to escort me home today? I've got a ride." There was a murmur in the background, and the woman sounded like she was going to say something contrary to "yes," or "okay," so he left no room for the woman to do so and hung up.

"Everything alright?" Bruce asked with a cautious tone.

"Yes," Jonathan replied, a slight smile gracing his features and lighting them up. Bruce almost forgot to take a breath.

"'Kay then. Lets take off."

Unexpectedly, the car that they got in to wasn't a flashy, overpriced sports car but an average model. Jonathan had initially pegged Bruce for more expensive vehicle tastes. The fact that he was wrong was surprising but it was a surprise in a good way. He felt safer riding in a car that couldn't go from zero to sixty at the snap of a finger.

Noticing Jonathan's stare, Bruce chuckled. "I guess it's not what you were probably expecting, ay?"

"No. I mean - no - that's not a bad thing it's a good thing and-"

Bruce interrupted Jonathan as he stumbled over conveying his thoughts in to words. "I get," Bruce chuckled. As they got in and Bruce turned the key in the ignition, Bruce looked over to Jonathan. "The real reason I drive this car is because I bought it myself last summer when I got a job. It's true that I could have a better one but I don't want to drive something I didn't earn myself."

Jonathan nodded, he fully respected that. He was much the same way himself. He wasn't content with getting the latest things just to have them, but on the rare off-chance that something did catch his eye, he'd rather earn it than ask for it. Usually those things, the things that caught his eye that was, tended to be books. And he had shelves upon shelves upon shelves of them.

"Okay, wanna' stop by my place before I take you home?"

"Yeah," and then Jonathan lowered his voice because he could hear the over-excitement within it, "that'd be great."

Bruce smirked. "Great."

Unlike most car rides, where Jonathan sat as a wordless passenger, there was a lot to say. Jonathan shared some of his dreams and hopes and values - and was quite pleasantly surprised to find that Bruce had similarly matching ones. With all the moving he had done, Jonathan never had time to make friends. At the thought, his heartbeat quickened.

A friend. Was this how they made you feel? If so, then he'd been missing out the whole time.

When they got to Bruce's, Jonathan nearly gaped. That was definitely a mansion. And not a mansion by way of the 2000's perspective. It looked far too grand to have been made recently. And it was large, that was for sure.

What looked to be Bruce's butler answered the door, welcoming them both in and even offering tea. Bruce declined and even though the thought of tea sounded quite inviting at the moment, he followed suit of Bruce. They both went up to Bruce's room and Jonathan smiled as Bruce practically nosedived in to his own bed.

"C'mon," Bruce called from the bed.

Jonathan removed his shoes and waled to the the large bed. He stood up on his tip-toes and climbed up.

"Why didn't you just jump on? That's the fun way to do it."

"Well isn't it rude-"

"Not if I invited you to," Bruce interrupted, smirking.

There was the sound of light foot steps and the door opened to reveal both Rachel and Harvey. Harvey just stepped in and came and sat on the bed with the both of them.

Rachel however gestured backwards with her hand. "Er- Alfred said we could come up so..."

"It's all good," Bruce countered, motioning her in. As she turned to close the door, Harvey whispered "ask her." And looked back at her as she came to sit on the bed, which was now starting to feel a little less big with the addition of another body - now supporting the weight four people.

Rachel looked to Jonathan and gave a small smile before waving. Jonathan smiled and waved back.

"So," Bruce started, unconsciously leaning closer to Jonathan, "we should all go to the dance as friends. Sounds like a good idea, right?" Jonathan nodded when Bruce looked to him, but Harvey looked like he had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something.

"Actually," Rachel started, "I was wondering if you'd go with me?" Harvey's eyes wandered to Bruce, attempting casuality but failing so obviously.

"Uhm, I'm really sorry - I don't, uh, want to go with a date. 'Ya know, just with a friend."

"I know," she countered, "and I'm a friend, aren't I?" Rachel practically had him backed in to a corner.

"Yeah but Harvey would love to take you, right Harv?"

"Yeah," Harvey smiled, scratching his neck and feigning as if the whole thing weren't a big deal at all to him. Rachel's eyes observed him for a moment before she nodded.

"Well then that takes care of that then." Bruce sat up and noticed the look in Rachel's eyes, as if she wanted to say more but didn't know how to appropriately phrase it. He patted Jonathan's shoulder once and Jonathan looked up curiously. "If you wanna stick around that's fine but I haveta' get Johnny here back home." Jonathan's face flushed lightly at the nickname before he got up.

"Bye," Jonathan said politely towards Harvey and Rachel before slipping his shoes on and walking down the stairs. Bruce gave a nod to the both of them before he followed.

When they were both in the car, Bruce turned and faced Jonathan. "Sorry about that back there."

"No, it's okay. Those are your friends, I understand."

"No," Bruce slid over as far as the cupholder between them would allow and Jonathan felt his face heat up, their faces barely and inch apart. "I mean it. I'm sorry. I really wanted to spend more time with you."

Jonathan felt his heart pick up speed. "Me too," he said, his throat starting to feel dry and his voice barely above that of a whisper.

Bruce smiled that confident smile of his and leaned back in to his seat before starting the car and pulling out and away from the manor.

When Jonathan arrived back at home and went up to his room he breathed a breath of contentment. Today was the first day he had felt as if everything had managed to go right. Sure, at first it didn't seem like it'd be a good day, but all in all it was. And he was really starting to come to like Bruce.

Jack stared up at his wall at a picture of Gotham High's favorite. Bruce. He was also his favorite. The teen had been there for him when he had been at his absolute lowest.

Jack looked to the right, another picture of Bruce coming in to view. In fact the whole entire room had pictures of him posted everywhere. From his walls to his dresser, to the corners of his full sized mirror. There were football photos. Pictures of him on school trips, a few of him posing silly in front of the camera and Jack's most prized ones, the ones of him and Bruce smiling together, hung on his ceiling right above his bed.

The fact remained that the jock was, as far as he knew, straight as an arrow. It was a little disheartening, but Jack had had the crush for so long that the exchange of unreturned feelings was okay as long as he could still hold on to his love for the young heir to billions.

But then again today there was the brunet who seemed to be a little too close to him. Jonathan was his name, Jack remembered. The bastard managed to get so close to Bruce so easily and it pissed him off to an unending degree. Embarrassing that blue eyed slut in Chemistry wasn't satisfying enough.

Although it had been funny.

* * *

><p>AN:: Yep, so it's true, you've guessed it - or maybe you didn't - that Jack was responsible for Jonathan's test tube blowing up. But it's true, isn't it? Jealously brings out the worst in even the best of people. But we all know Jack's no angel. If you have time to drop a review, that'd be appreciated, see you next time!


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